Crossed Paths Part 3
by Oracle Pisces
Summary: Prophecy rears its ugly head...enter someone from Methos’s past...they must now help him to save the future. Relationships break and new ones form...Xander Harris finds he has a fan, and the darkness watches...


San Diego, California

Cassandra sat back in the small alcove of her living room. She had moved here about 6 months ago, leaving behind everything. When her last attempt to kill Methos had failed and she had been there to witness the dual Quickening, she had gone into seclusion.

Cassandra had come to this place because no one knew her. It was easy to set up a business, as a medium along with a shop to sell supplies to would be Wicca and witches. Her visions had become lessened and she remained calm. Her desire to end the man who held her as a slave for centuries was all, but diminished. It was quite ironic.

Cassandra took a sip of her tea and looked to the clock. She had a whole hour before she had to open her shop. She'd sit back and enjoy her tea. Before Cassandra took another sip of her tea and gasped as a vision struck her.

Cassandra felt a surge of adrenaline as she saw the same blond woman from her earlier visions was fighting against strange-faced men.

Cassandra saw Methos receive a quickening with the blond woman nearby, and then saw the woman collapse as part of the quickening struck her.

She felt his panic.

Next, she saw the red headed woman's hair colored with white, and she was chanting with her arms raised and saw Duncan MacLeod rush to her side as she collapsed.

Suddenly Cassandra felt blinding pain in her belly.

The blond woman appeared again, and she was crying out. She was in a great deal of pain, and the woman turned over to reveal a large belly heavy with child.

Cassandra felt sheer fear at the sight of a raven-haired woman stand above someone with a wicked looking jeweled knife.

She had to hold onto her table as images and sensation speared through her.

Duncan and the redhead at Stonehenge; there was joy and awe.

The blond kissing Methos; there was passion and fire.

There were several girls with other unknown people standing on a beach with lightning flashing all around them; there was anxiety and desperation.

The raven-haired woman exploded in a shower of dust; she felt relief.

Then Cassandra felt a jabbing pain in her gut as someone shot her; there was pain and nausea.

The visions stopped, and her head stooped swimming.

Cassandra's breath was coming out uneven and ragged. This was different from all the things she'd seen before. This unknown woman was important; she sensed that, she was important to the world and not just her nemesis. She remembered Methos's anguish from before. His anguish and torment gave Cassandra some small satisfaction.

She could do nothing or she could help the woman. Her visions didn't always come to fruition, but this one would. Cassandra knew in her heart that she would have to do something. She could call Duncan MacLeod and have him warn Methos. Protecting the woman was vital and so was the child she was going to bear. What did it have to do with Methos? The child could not be his.

Cassandra began to dial his phone number, but then hung up. She'd get in touch with his Watcher…no. She couldn't do that either. She wanted contact with neither Duncan MacLeod nor his Watcher. This was too important for her aversion to Methos. Something had to be done.

London

Dawn Summers woke up and saw that someone had unpacked her stuff. Buffy. She knew it had been her sister because she had put the stuffed animals on the bed with her. She felt like someone had spiked her tea with sleeping pills, and replaced her brain with cotton balls, it was kind of how she felt when Xander drugged her. This must be what jet lag feels like.

"Note to self…avoid jet-lag at all costs."

Dawn lumbered off into the bathroom and looked in the mirror. She had a major case of bed-head going. She picked up her toothbrush and squeezed some toothpaste onto it. Dawn brushed her teeth and was about to rinse when she it hit her. Her sister was sleeping with someone that was older than most things anyone could remember.

"Oh, my God." She said out loud and than swallowed the toothpaste. What was going on with Buffy? First, there was Angel, then Spike and now this guy. He also looked like a real dork…a librarian-type guy. So not Buffy's type. He still was kind of cute in a boring, English tutor kind of way.

She rinsed her mouth out and looked back in the mirror. He was 5000 years old. He was sooo old. She strolled back into her room and flopped onto the bed again. She was going to do nothing, she was going to try and do nothing. It was going to be very difficult. Buffy was a big girl. It didn't mean that she was going to pretend to like it.

Downstairs, Xander Harris sat in the kitchen of the very large house. He had charmed the cook into laying out some food even after dinner had been finished for several hours. Willow walked in and sat down next to her friend.

"Wow, Xander. You scored." She said as she picked up a cookie and broke it into pieces.

"Hey, the X-Man has still got it. I told her that I wanted to run away with her. She turned me down because she's happily married. She thought she'd cushion the blow with sweets. Hey, I'm easy." He said with a mouthful of food, and took another handful of cookies.

"Yeah you are." She munched on her cookie.

They ate in comfortable silence for a while. Xander took a large swig of milk from his mug. He took a sideways glance at his friend, and noticed something different about her hair. It was streaked white.

"What's with the new hair? Kind of sexy sexy, Will." Xander touched her hair.

"Uh, well. It was weird, Xander. I was walking in the woods and I saw him. I tripped and when Duncan…err…uh…Mr. MacLeod put his sword in the ground, I saw all these people and places. I don't know what happened." Willow told her best friend and munched on another cookie.

"You were checking him out, you naughty little Wicca." Xander waved a pastry at her.

"I was not." Willow protested, and her cheeks grew red.

"Were too." Xander fired back, and stuck out his tongue.

"Oh, you so were. He's a hottie." Buffy spoke from the door. She wore a skirt and peasant blouse in white, and she looked gloriously happy. She was going to dinner at Methos's house.

"I was not. Hello, got a girlfriend. This is her house. Remember? It is just not everyday that you see a half-naked man in the woods. Or see half naked man with a sword in the woods. I was thrown, ok?" Willow lamely defended herself. It was true what she said, but they weren't going for it.

"Its true, the facts cannot be denied, Mr. Harris. She was indeed checking him out." Buffy smiled with enthusiasm at Xander, walked to Willow, and kissed her on the cheek.

"I concur, Miss Summers. Lookie at you too, all gussied up and ready for romance." Xander looked Buffy over appreciatively, and Willow was glad for the attention to be off her. Buffy did look great and Willow was happy for her.

"Have a great time." Willow hugged Buffy and Xander did too.

"Be home before midnight, Bufferella. Cause if you don't you'll be gettin' a whoopin'." Xander winked at Buffy and she laughed and left the kitchen.

Xander consumed the entire tray of cookies, while Willow only nibbled on two. They had been in the middle of talking when Kennedy appeared in the kitchen. She greeted Xander and her girlfriend warmly. Xander excused himself to give the two women a chance to talk.

Willow half hoped he wouldn't have left. She really wanted some extra support because she knew Kennedy wanted to talk about the whole thing that happened this afternoon.

"Your parents have a nice house." Willow took a sip of her milk, a nervous knot formed in her stomach.

"Thanks." Kennedy replied nonchalantly and sat across from her.

Neither of them spoke for a full three minutes. It was a definite awkward silence.

"So…what was that with that MacLeod guy?" Kennedy said bluntly…going straight to the point.

"Nothing. I got dizzy, then I passed out, he carried me back, and that was it." Willow told her girlfriend what happened. She didn't tell her that she knew Duncan MacLeod was an immortal, or the fact that she thinks he was attractive in that secret part of her.

"Really? Sure didn't look like it to me. You pulled away from me outside.What's going on? I thought we were together. It wasn't cool, Willow." Kennedy said angrily as she watched Willow go to the sink.

Willow took her mug to the sink and rinsed it out. She kept her back to Kennedy, but felt the other girl staring at her intensely.

"I know. I'm sorry about that." Willow said, and she almost believed it herself, but Kennedy didn't buy it.

"Uh huh. We were cool when I left Los Angeles. What happened in a couple weeks, Willow? It feels like you're pulling away from me. What's going on?" Kennedy's anger subsided and gave way to panic. She could almost hear the bells about to toll signaling the end of their relationship.

"Kennedy, maybe we're rushing things. We got caught up in all that was happening in Sunnydale. Maybe we…" Willow turned around to see the shock in her girlfriend's face.

"Rushing? What are you talking about? Things were crazy, I admit it, but we connected. What about that one night? This has to do with that guy, MacLeod, that's what this is. I can't believe it. You're dumping for a man. Fucking unbelievable." Kennedy's anger flared up again. She scooted back too quickly and it caused the stool to turn over.

"No, baby, it's not that. I just think we need to slow down." Willow reached out to try to reassure her. When she touched Kennedy's arm, the other girl jerked back sharply, and put her hands up to ward Willow off.

"Slow down? I don't believe this shit. You know what, just stay away from me." Kennedy turned on her heel and stormed out of the kitchen. Willow buried her hands in her face and started crying.

She'd been having second thoughts about her relationship with Kennedy before she arrived in England, but wanted to wait to talk things over with her. Willow wanted to make things work, she truly did, but their relationship kicked into high gear before the final showdown with The First. She remembered the Sandra Bullocks line in Speed about relationships started under extreme conditions never lasted. It hurt Willow a great deal to admit, but it was still true.

Mac had come down the stairs to see a very upset and pissed off Kennedy racing out of the kitchen and past him up the stairs. She barely spared him a look, but the one he did catch was one of hatred. He knew what that meant. Willow and her had broken up.

He went to the kitchen door and listened to Willow's crying, it tore right into him. Mac hesitated before he opened the door, when he did Willow caught sight of him and quickly wiped the tears from her face. She was trying to be brave, she even managed a tiny smile.

"Is everything ok?" He asked her carefully.

"Sure. I mean, no. Kennedy and I just broke up." Willow sniffled miserably.

"Why?" Mac couldn't imagine why the Slayer would want to part from Willow.

"She thinks me…you. That we…she thinks I was going to dump her because of you. I tried telling her it wasn't true, but she wouldn't listen." Willow started crying all over again.

Mac couldn't remain impassive, he brought her to him, and held her. She cried even harder. He rubbed her back, whispering soft words of comfort to her.

"I'll go talk to her. Make her see the truth." He whispered tenderly as he kissed the top of her head.

"No, don't bother." Willow cried sorrowfully against his chest.

"She blames both of us for something that wasn't true. That is no reason to break up with you. Let her cool down tonight and I'll talk to her tomorrow, ok?" She looked up at him and smiled.

Willow pulled away from him and wiped the tears from her face. She smiled at him and he felt good that he could make her feel better. Mac felt incredible, in fact.

"I need some air." Willow told him as she walked to the back door.

"Mind if I join you?" Mac asked hopefully. He wanted to talk about what had happened this afternoon before she passed out. Her brow creased in thought, considering carefully what might happen.

"It's a free country, isn't it? Sure." Willow walked out the door and Mac followed.

Off in another part of the house Xander Harris strolled through the hallways of the huge house. He managed to carry a hand full of cookies out of the kitchen before Kennedy came in, and nibbled on them as he wandered around. He came to a door in the hall. There was a light on behind the door, so he pushed the door open, and then he heard a muffled exclamation on the other side, followed by a thump. 

He peeked around the door to see a young woman with reddish blond hair sitting on the floor, rubbing her forehead. Xander must have knocked her down when he pushed open the door. He quickly dropped his cookies, and helped her up.

"Are you ok? I'm so sorry." He held onto her arm and brushed her off.

"I'm alright, thank you. I was not watching the door, silly of me." The woman spoke with a gentle Irish accent. She still rubbed her forehead where the door hit her. Xander touched the red spot. The skin wasn't broken, but she was going to have a nice bruise there for a few days.

"Nah, its totally my fault. No worries. Why don't you sit down for a moment?" Xander led the young woman to a big armchair and almost pushed her in it. He felt all clumsy and stupid right now as he sat down in the chair opposite to hers.

"No, really. I should have been watchin'. My goodness, you're Alexander Harris, aren't you?" She stared at him and blushed furiously, looking a little star struck.

"Uh yeah? That's me." Xander innocently answered. The woman looked like she'd just met Brad Pitt or something. Xander was stumped.

"It's grand thing to meet you. I've read all about you. You did lose your…" Brenna prattled on; she stopped when she realized she was just going on and on.

"Lost what? My car keys? Well, yeah, I did…then again I lost my car too. My apartment, and pretty much everything I ever owned too. It's all gone in the crumbly destruction of the Hellmouth. Oh, my eye…that's what you meant. Yep, I got me this cool eye patch look now. Who'd be writing about the X-Man?" He said to the girl as he leaned forward with a glint of amusement in his eye.

The young woman got up from the chair, and went to pick up the books she dropped when Xander hit her with the door. She sat back down and opened one of them, and began to read. It was an account of when he talked Willow out of destroying the world.

"That was very brave of you, Mr. Harris. I would have folded and ran." She closed the book and looked back up to him, but not meeting his eye.

"Nah. I think you could have held your own. See, the thing is you can do anything when those you love are on the line. I was scared out of my gourd, but I couldn't let the magic destroy Willow like that. She was running over time on grief. She's my friend, and I love her lots," Xander studied her for a second, "What's your name by the way? We know who I am, you know who you are, and I know who I am…most of the time, but we don't know who you are? I mean… I don't know who you are?" Xander put out a hand to her. She hesitated, but then took it.

"I'm Brenna Gallagher. I was training to be a Watcher before the attacks. That was when I went into hidin'. I'm from Ireland." Brenna winced inwardly, she sounded like a stupid twit of a schoolgirl.

Xander just smiled and took her hand in his. He had a firm grip, and Brenna thought about how small her hand looked in his larger, work worn hands. He had very nice hands that weren't overly large, but still a nice size.

"They shake hands a long time in Ireland?" Xander said and Brenna realized that she had been staring down at their hands for too long.

"Oh. Sorry." She let go of his hand.

"I'm not complaining. We might need them for other things later on, so I figured it might be safe to mention." He smiled warmly at her, and she felt all her insides slowly start to melt.

"I'm…I…I should go. I have lots to study up on...Goodnight." Brenna stammered and made a hasty retreat to the door.

"Good night." Xander said and winked at Brenna, her cheeks turned a bright pink and she was gone.

"Yep, the Xand man has still got it." Xander felt extremely pleased and mentally patted him himself on the back and picked up the journal that Brenna left behind. His earlier sadness had disappeared as he began to read.

Mac and Willow walked in silence from the house to the garden. Mac wasn't bothered by the silence, but he could tell that she was trying to keep herself from saying anything by biting her lower lip. It was cute.

"It would be a real pity if you chew that off." He said as they kept walking.

"Oh. Sorry." Willow stopped what she was doing. She felt so nervous being around him. Buffy would be all witty and charming, while Willow felt 15 again. She thought she had gained more confidence since High School.

"Don't be. It's a very attractive set of lips; it would be a pity to spoil the pair." Mac had no idea why he said that. He was trying to make her comfortable in his presence, but all he was managing to do was to make her more nervous.

"Oh." Willow whispered and he could tell that she was blushing.

"Willow, I wanted to ask you about this afternoon in the woods," He saw her swallow hard…she'd been anticipating this question, but it was clear she didn't want to talk about it. "What did you mean when you said, 'You're one of them'?"

"Uh, well, I…you're an Immortal, like Methos. Right?" Willow said plainly, looking right at him, as if she was half expecting him to deny it.

"What makes you think that?" Mac countered.

"Well, you've got a sword for one thing. Giles told us that Immortals always carry swords in case they come across another one and have to fight. Of course, you could just be a sword-guy…like those renaissance revivalist people, or maybe I'm just totally a fruit-loop. It's just that…" Willow trailed off, and gnawed at her lip again.

"Just what?" He prodded gently. He needed to hear her say it for some inexplicable reason. There was an inner need burning in him to have her say it, and accept him for his uniqueness.

Willow looked intently down at the path they were walking on. She studied the ground as if it was going to give her the words to say.

"Its just the things I saw when you put your sword in the ground. I saw you in different place in different times with different people. I saw you in Scotland…when you were forced to leave home. I saw you in France…you met a woman delivering a baby…and you also feel different. You don't feel like normal people do, I can sense that." Willow said reluctantly and stopped walking.

When he realized she was no longer beside him, Mac stopped and turned to face her. She stared innocently at him, a little apprehension tensing her brow. Willow waited for him to say something, as if his reaction to what she told him would condemn her or not.

"I feel different. How do I 'feel'?" Mac asked her, but he didn't want her to answer. Willow Rosenberg was nothing like any of the women he'd met before…she was sweet and unassuming…but there was strength of heart and character under her childlike blushes and shy smiles. He wanted her to just be as he thought of her…a normal woman, but she wasn't. She was a witch…an extremely powerful witch.

"It's your aura. Everyone has an aura…even demons and vampires. Eww, I once sensed the aura of this slime demon," Willow realized she was going off topic and could have kicked herself, "An aura radiates around an individual changing color with each fluctuation in mood or environment. People are like mood rings."

"I'm a human mood ring?" Mac was beginning to think this was just ridiculous.

"Anyways, your aura is more substantial. The colors and tones are richer and more vibrant. It radiates, but it also echoes so softly that I can almost hear it." Willow explained.

Every word she spoke made Mac more suspicious of the magical. It was the same magic and mystical that Willow spoke of that made him and the others immortal. There was no reason for why they existed. After all this time, even Methos didn't have an answer. There simply was no 'why'.

"Hear it? That's a little much don't you think? You really believe all that? I think you're being incredibly naive." Mac almost laughed at the absurdity of the whole thing as he took his hands out of his pockets, and pointed at her emphatically.

"What can't you accept that it exists? Everything is connected through magic. It's all part of the same thing…you, the earth, and me. Magic is in everything you are, Duncan MacLeod. That's why I saw what I did, the people you killed, and the places you've been. It was all little snap shots of your life. I've seen your loss too. I saw Tessa and Richie." She finished the last part very softly, but loud enough that he heard her.

He strode right up to her and came up to her face. He was livid. Mac hadn't come out here to talk about magic.

"Stop, Willow. This was all a mistake. Just go .Get out of here. This conversation is done." Mac said slowly as he controlled his anger, and he turned away from her.

"You need to see that not all magic is bad, Duncan." Willow put a hand on his shoulder, and he felt something course through him.

All the pain, all the animosity, and bitterness in his heart seemed to lessen as her hand lay there. Something fresh and hopeful blossomed inside his chest, and his anger all but dissolved as she removed her hand.

"See…all better." Willow spoke in a wobbly tone.

Mac turned around and looked at her glassy stare and pale face. In the darkness it was so easy to see. Willow smiled with a goofy grin before her eyes rolled back in her head and she pitched forward. For the second time that day, he had caught her in his arms. Mac lowered her to the ground and cradled her head in his lap.

"Fantastic." Mac said aloud, and felt for her pulse. It leapt strongly under his touch. She just passed out.

Willow's eyes fluttered open a few moments later. She gazed innocently up at Mac, and he couldn't look away. They just stared at one another. A bird's song broke the silence that hung around them. Willow blushed and Mac brushed the hair from her face, and then he helped her sit up.

"This is starting to become a habit." Willow said uncomfortably as she sat there and stared down at her hands.

"Could be worse. Come on, it's getting late," he got to his feet and held out ahand to her, "I'm sorry for getting upset with you."

"That's ok, I've been upset at lots." She smiled again at him. They stood there with her small hand in his larger one.

Willow took her free hand, and placed it over their joined hands. She looked up into his eyes and he looked right back. Mac wasn't sure who moved first, but their lips met in the sweetest kiss he had ever known.

It ended as quickly as it had begun, but left an impression on both of them. They unlinked their hands and walked back to the house in a companionable silence. Mac bid Willow good night when they reached the house, and rushed down the long hall to the library. Willow watched him walk away with an unexpected heavy heart, and reluctantly trudged up the long staircase to her room.

A shadow moved from behind a tree near the house and disappeared into the forest. The person had been watching the two people, and listened to what they were saying. The shadow was curious, and smiled in the darkness. The shadow had found what it saught, and slinked off down the road where they had left their car.

115


End file.
